


Kisses Dripping With Honey

by gracediamondsfear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Bratting, Collars, Consensual Non-Consent, D/s, Discipline, F/M, Food Kink, Food Play, HP Kinkfest 2019, Hair-pulling, Oral Sex, Punishment, Switching, Thigh high stockings, hot fudge and strawberries, i mean really the elves are going to be pissed, messy sex, mint chocolate chip ice cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracediamondsfear/pseuds/gracediamondsfear
Summary: Ms Granger is in charge tonight and she's brought her beloved pet a delicious fireside picnic.  Of course, not all pets are well trained and things don't go exactly as planned.Special thanks to sleepygrimm for designing my cover and inspiring me to claim this kink :)





	Kisses Dripping With Honey

 

She was at work and had been for four hours. Luckily her shift on Fridays was shorter than usual, but still, he was uncomfortable.

 

Because the hardwood floor was uncomfortable on his knees and Hermione had told him to wait.

 

He’d woken up early and found the black leather collar waiting for him on the nightstand beside their bed. They had discussed her request a few days earlier and he’d wondered when it would show up, their signal to begin the scene. After she got out of bed to take a shower he’d buckled the collar around his neck and sat on the edge of the bed in his black silk pajama pants, watching her dress for work, pinning her hair into a sleek, tight knot at the nape of her neck and pulling on some sensible black pumps. He wanted to grab her and throw her on the bed; his naughty little Ministry Archivist in her conservative grey suit and stockings with the seam up the back, a muggle invention that he thanked the gods for every day.

“When can I expect you home?” He asked, having not been told he couldn’t speak or ask questions.

“The usual time, pup,” she said, smiling at him in the mirror. “Help me with these pearls.”

He stood behind her and hooked the necklace in the back, admiring openly how it fell just at the hollow of her throat. Taking a chance, he bent down and kissed the bone at the top of her spine. She purred in response, turning to kiss his mouth, her fingers in his tousled hair. She was less strict than he would ever allow.

“You’re free to do what you like today, love,” she said. “But starting at half four you need to be waiting for me, and I hope you’ll look a bit more presentable.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, solemnly. “Where ma’am?”

“In the front parlor. Make sure there’s a fire; it’s supposed to rain this afternoon.” She reached up to pat his cheek. “You can keep your pajamas on, but I want you on your knees like a good little pup with your head bowed and your hands behind your back. Can you remember all that?”

She smiled wickedly at him, knowing her condescension and sickly sweet tone were setting his teeth on edge, but also knowing that he’d never break the rules.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, kissing her one last time before bowing slightly and moving aside so she could head to work.

 

 

 

She came home nearly an hour later than expected, the clock over the fireplace reading five minutes to six. And when he saw the saccharine smile on her lips he knew damn well that she’d done it on purpose. She knew he was impatient, particularly when they played, and that above all things he abhorred tardiness.

“Hello pup,” she said, reaching down to run her fingers through his silky hair.

The ends were damp and he smelled fresh and clean: cedar, leather and white tea. For a moment she paused to think of him stretched out in their sunken bath, his long, lean arms resting on the edge of the tub, steam rising off of his blushed skin. He certainly was a gorgeous specimen.

“Hello Ms Granger,” he said, smiling politely when she tipped his chin up with her painted nails.

“Would you like a kiss, my love?” She asked, dropping the canvas shopping bag she’d been carrying and kicking off her black pumps.

Draco let out a quiet growl at her losing the shoes but quickly regained his composure.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for one all day.” He flashed her a mischievous, lopsided smile but found that she was frowning, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Oh you have? Did I make you wait too long little pup? And now you're going to whine about it?" She changed her voice then, to something singsong and dramatic like talking to a child. "Have I upset you, my tender little pureblood puppy?”

She nearly laughed out loud at the tiniest curl of his lip, restraining his desire to lash out. She was doing her best to hit every nerve.

“Not at all Ms. Granger. I’ve only been eager to kiss you, that’s all,” he crooned, his voice low and buttery. He was an exquisite brat, barely concealing his sarcasm.

“That’s more like it,” she said, finally bending down to quickly brush her lips over his, knowing it would never be enough to satisfy him, but ignoring his pout when she pulled away. “I’ve brought you some dinner. I thought we could enjoy it by the fire. A Friday night picnic, what do you think?”

“It sounds lovely,” he said. “But I’m not hungry for food, ma’am,” he said, watching her rifle through the bag, bent at the waist, the seams of her stockings leading his eyes up her legs to her perfectly presented ass.

“Don’t be cheeky, pup, or I’ll send you to bed alone.”

He sat back on his heels and watched as she pulled a bottle of chilled champagne from the bag, then bananas, strawberries and hot fudge sauce and finally a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a jar of honey.

“I know you have a sweet tooth,” she said, standing in front of him. “Does this look good to you?”

“It does, ma’am,” he said, staring her dead in the eye, his mind already whirling with possibilities of what was to come. “It looks very good.”

Hermione bent down in front of him, allowing a lovely view down the front of her black satin shirt, the shadowed valley between her breasts, the little peek of the black lace trim on her bra. With a kind hand on his cheek she gave his forehead a chaste kiss before crouching down in front of him to kiss his mouth again.

“You look very good too, pup. Such a good little boy waiting for me, so quiet, so well behaved,” she said, her hand wandering down over his bare chest then to his pajama bottoms where she stroked his hardened length through the cool, black fabric. “So hard, too. Have you been thinking about fucking me all day, pup?”

“I have,” he said, his eyes glittering, lids fluttering with arousal as she applied a bit more pressure, her lips and tongue playing over his neck. “I found it difficult to think of anything else.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered against his ear, her hand working inside his trousers now, slim, warm fingers around his shaft, stroking slowly. “It’s hard for your brain to do too many things at once, isn’t it my little pureblood pup?”

His growl was audible and she smiled to herself. Still he bucked against her hand until she stopped cold, pulling back to frown at him.

“I said, _it’s hard for your brain to do too many things at once, isn’t it, my little pureblood_?”

For a moment the tension in the air was almost too much for her to handle as they tread this new ground. His eyes were like quicksilver, narrow and icy, his lip curled into a sneer that he made no effort to hide. She kept her placating smile in place even though she could feel the pulse pounding in her throat along with the tiny clenching muscle spasms between her legs at seeing the fire bubbling in his gaze.

“Yes ma’am,” he hissed. “It is.”

“Hmm,” she said, standing up again. “I don’t like your attitude right now. I’m going to give you a little time to cool off and think about how grateful you are for this picnic I brought for you,” she said, holding her hand out to show him the array that she’d carefully lined up on the coffee table. “I’m going to go grab a shower, maybe a glass of wine…”

“Ma’am…” he tried to interrupt politely but she fired him a chilly look of warning.

“And you will wait here as long as I want you to, do you understand me pup? And when I come back…we’ll start all over.”

Having given her cue, she padded away on her stocking feet, giving him one last look at the hourglass curves that her suit accentuated, and when finally she was out of the room, Draco stood up, rolled his neck, poured himself a glass of champagne, and smiled.

 

 

 

Her plan had been to leave him there stewing for an hour; a full sixty minutes. But to do so would be a punishment even to herself, and by the time she’d gotten out of the shower and pulled on his favorite silver lace lingerie she was nearly aching to touch herself. She was sure that with a few quick strokes of her fingers she would be able to come as just feeling the cool, satin gusset of the knickers against her bare pussy was agonizing at this point. And yet only twenty minutes had passed. Oh well. They were her rules anyway. And as of right now she was free to break them.

“Now then, my little puppy…” she started, opening the door to the front parlor only to find it empty.

The fire still roared, the food was still set out as she’d arranged it: all but the champagne, which was opened, the foil peeled off, cork set to the side with an empty glass next to it. She stepped into the room and looked into the far corners, near the desk, the bar, behind the sofa. He wasn’t there. Two more steps into the room and she heard the door of the parlor slam shut, hard enough that picture frame fell from the wall.

“Draco?” She asked into the darkened room. “Have you had a chance to think about your attitude?”

He was standing behind her, his fist deep in her damp hair to pull her head back against his chest. His warm tongue slid up the side of her neck and around the shell of her ear as he held her in place, his other hand bending her right arm up and between her shoulderblades to keep her still.

“I have, ma’am,” he purred in her ear. “And I’ve decided that I’m done being your puppy.” His hips pressed against hers, walking her forward, letting go of her hair and pulling her other arm behind her back, holding tight to her wrists.

“This is outrageous! I can’t beli…”

Draco clamped one hand tight over her mouth, his own lips near her ear again.

“Shhh. I’m done taking orders from you. Now keep your mouth shut ma’am or I’ll shove something in it. Do you understand?” He whispered, laying a few delicate kisses down the side of her throat. She nodded slowly and he let go of her mouth. “Good girl,” he said, kissing her cheek before saying, “Incarcerous.”

Her hands were quickly bound from wrist to elbow with black leather cord, held tight behind her back, pushing her chest up and forward. He walked around her, crossing his arms over his chest, smiling at his work, smoothing a hand over her hair, nearly laughing out loud at the look of surprise and fear on her face. “Now you'll kneel.”

She sunk down to the floor, shivering as she looked up at him still in his thick, black leather collar, his lean arms crossed over his chest, stance strong and wide, towering over her, nothing like the subservient little slave she’d come home to.

“I waited all day for you,” he said, walking over towards the table full of food and drink. He picked up the bottle of champagne and took a long drink from it, letting it spill from the corners of his lips, trickling down over his chin and glistening on the tendons of his throat. “I sat here alone, behaving myself like a good little _pup_ imagining you strutting all over the Ministry in your fuck me pumps and your silk stockings, that skirt that shows off that perfect ass, your black satin shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the tops of your tits to whoever may want to steal a glance.”

She was watching him, wide eyed and tense as he paced in front of her, the bottle dangling from his long fingers. Then suddenly he was right in front of her, his hand around her neck to hold her face still, to look her in the eye.

“But those are my tits, aren’t they, kitten?”

“Yesss,” she said, the word floating out on an exhale, her eyelids fluttering as a flush of arousal washed through her blood at his use of her favorite endearment.

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir, they’re your tits.”

“Good girl,” he said again, loosening his hold on her throat. “Open your mouth, I’ll let you join me in a drink.”

He stood over her kneeling body, legs spread wide and watched as she tilted her head back dutifully, holding her mouth open for whatever he chose to give her. This was his good girl, his perfect little kitten. She’d planned this evening so perfectly and he could see by the fire in her eyes that it was fulfilling every wish she’d had.

Putting the bottle to her lips he poured the champagne in her mouth, filling it until it spilled the sticky, bubbly liquid out and over her chin and down to the hollow of her throat. She drank greedily, opening her throat to avoid gagging, until he pulled the bottle away to take a sip of his own.

“So while you were out flirting with other men I did what you asked and I got on my knees for you, and then you waltzed in here with your bag of tricks and decided to make me wait to see what’s mine, to touch it,” he said, grabbing her breast roughly, his fingers twisting her nipple through the fabric of her bra; just enough to make her gasp. “So I’ve decided…I’m not going to be a good boy for you anymore. Now you’re going to be a good girl…for me.”

“Yes sir,” she whispered, her eyes filled with eager anticipation, her tongue flicking out over her lower lip.

“What’s that?” He asked, his voice low and nearly angry, rumbling like distant thunder.

“Yes sir,” she said, looking him in the eye, her voice a bit stronger.

“Do you want more?” he asked, rolling the mouth of the bottle over her parted lips.

She nodded.

“Show me how badly you want it,” he said, pushing the neck in past her teeth.

Hermione dutifully closed her lips around the bottle, bobbing along its length, licking and sucking at the cold glass as he gently forced it to the back of her throat. He held it at his hips of course, to give the illusion that he was allowing her to suck his beautiful cock, his thick, hard cock that she wanted so badly.

“Is this making you hot?” He asked, putting a hand on the back of her head, fucking her mouth with the bottle. “Is it making you wet?”

She didn’t stop, but did moan and nod, her thighs spread to show him how wet and open she was.

“Maybe we should try something else then? Something a little more satisfying?” He pulled the bottle from her mouth and let the rest of the champagne pour over her chest and down over her stomach, between her spread legs, soaking her knickers that were already damp with her own wetness. “Filthy girl,” he said, clucking his tongue and walking away, dropping the bottle in front of her.

She didn’t dare move from her position although the desire to squeeze her legs together, to grind and buck against something was overwhelming. Instead she watched as he ran his fingers over the items on the table before picking up the chocolate sauce and strawberries. He spun the lid from the jar and let it clatter to the floor as he whispered a spell, heating up the contents. When it was warm he scooped his finger deep into thick chocolate and spread it over her lips.

“Suck,” he said, crouching in front of her, “Clean my finger, Ms. Granger.”

She did as he asked and he pulled away, dipping his finger in again and tasting it for himself before drawing a dark line of hot fudge down the length of her throat and between her breasts. At his touch she pushed her chest out towards him and he pulled her breasts from the cups of her bra, smearing them with chocolate before moving down to draw a D on the middle of her stomach.

“I like seeing you wearing my mark,” he said, leaning forward to lick at the chocolate on her nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around their hardened peaks. “Someday I’ll mark you for good…do you want that, kitten?”

“Yes sir,” she sighed, pushing back against his mouth, wanting more of his touch. “I’m yours, sir.”

“I know,” he said, taking one of the strawberries and dragging it over her skin to gather up more of the chocolate. “Such a good girl. Open.” 

He put the strawberry between her lips and she bit into it, the sweet cold juice of the berry bursting over her tongue, mixing with the warm fudge as she chewed. Draco took a bite for himself and pulled a fresh strawberry from the package.

“If I unbind your arms will you behave for me?” He asked, sucking at the end of a plump red berry.

“Yes sir, please sir,” she said. 

“Finite,” he said casually, releasing her arms. “Lay back and spread your legs so I can see that pretty pussy.”

 

He held up the jar of chocolate again, but instead of using his finger, he held it above her stomach, waiting for her thighs to part, showing off the wet gusset of her kinckers molded to her bare, newly waxed labia. She whimpered and writhed as he poured nearly half of the warmed sauce over her body, drizzled on her stomach, her legs, over her hips. He reached forward and roughly pulled the damp fabric to the side, exposing her completely before pouring the chocolate over her mons, some of it slipping down between her slick pussy lips and over her hardened clit.

“Delicious,” he growled, tossing the jar aside.

Hermione let her legs fall further open as he slithered up between them, flattening his body over hers, smearing the chocolate over their skin, sweet and sticky, making wet sucking noises as he moved to kiss her.

“You don’t _really_ want me on the bottom, do you little girl?” He asked, kissing her neck, her breasts, licking the chocolate from her stomach before moving to kiss her hip. 

“No sir,” she admitted. “I belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispered. “And where do you belong when you want to come?”

“Under you, sir,” she said, her back arching up to his mouth.

Pushing her legs apart he produced another strawberry and dragged it between her aching pussy lips, coating it in her slick juices and the little drips of chocolate. Her hips bucked and she moaned as he swirled the cool strawberry over her clit.

“Horny witch,” he said, smiling wickedly in the firelight as he licked the strawberry clean. “So sweet and wet.”

He dragged the berry between her legs again, dipping it further inside, her body taking the fruit greedily. Again he smeared it over her skin before eating it, his eyes flicking up to meet Hermione’s as she leaned back on her elbows to watch him work between her thighs. Unhappy with the nuisance of her knickers, he easily ripped one side of them and tossed them aside. He lapped hungrily at her slick pussy, cleaning away the chocolate, swirling over her clit, dipping deep inside her, never once taking his eyes from hers, working to bring her just to the edge of ecstasy before pulling away.

“Accio banana,” he said, holding out his left hand.

She squirmed and whined as he leaned on his forearms to peel the slightly under ripe fruit, teasing her entrance with the tip.

“Your cunt is aching to be filled, kitten. I can see it from here. Fuck, I can smell how badly you need it. You want something stuffed up there, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” she said, pushing forward against the banana. “Please sir.”

She sucked her breath in through her teeth as he instead brought the banana up to his own lips and swirled his tongue around it, sucking it deep into his mouth. Their sex life was active and varied and she’d told him several times that watching him suck off Blaise or Theo was one of her favorite pastimes; the way his lips stretched, his flushed, hollowed cheeks, but especially how he kept his eyes locked on hers as he did it, every time, as if it were all for her pleasure…not his. Watching him take the banana deeper into his mouth, Hermione groaned and let her legs fall further apart, her wetness dripping onto the carpet along with the chocolate sauce and strawberry juice. Draco nodded when she begged him with her nonsensical whimpering, her hips rolling against the floor. 

“Here you go, horny little slut,” he said, handing her the banana. “Shove this up your cunt while I watch.”

She did as he asked, sliding the delicate fruit inside her, clenching her muscles around it. Obviously it was nothing like Draco’s cock, and he knew that, looking at her frustrated face as she slowly worked the banana in and out. Still, he liked watching her pleasure herself, the slightly wild, feral position of her body, legs splayed wide, her hair a mess, her skin flushed pink from her chest to her forehead. He liked the way she bit down on her lower lip as she did everything she could to fit the whole banana inside her, needing to get some relief, some friction, thickness.

“Nothing can fuck you quite like I can, isn’t that right, Ms. Granger?”

“Yes sir. I mean…no sir,” she said, thrusting it in and out, the fruit getting mushy and wet in her fingers, making a mess between her legs.

“Would you rather it was me fucking you right now, love?” He purred, running his fingers up and down the insides of her thighs, watching closely as she tried to bring herself relief. She wouldn’t come unless he allowed it though…he knew that.

“Yesss,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

In the darkened parlor he smiled like a wolf, teeth glinting white, eyes narrowed, getting harder at the sound of her need, the way she wanted him, moans and whimpers escaping on each breath. With a tiny jerk of his head he summoned the jar of wildflower honey and moved to kneel between her spread legs. Holding the jar above his cock he poured out a stream of the sticky golden liquid, letting it coat the length of his erection, some of the sugary syrup falling onto her thigh.

“Come get me ready then, kitten. Clean off this honey with your tongue and then I’ll fuck you. If that’s what you want.”

She smiled, dropping the wet and broken banana, twisting her body to crawl over to him, holding out her pink tongue to catch the honey dripping from the tip of his cock. He massaged the back of her neck as she worked; her tongue slowly curling around his shaft, kissing and licking off every bit, her lips swollen and sticky, shining pink. Bits of her hair stuck to her cheeks with drops of honey keeping it in place like glue as she took him further into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat, sucking at the sweet rod of his prick. She held fast to his hips with soft, sticky fingers and he pushed deeper, groaning as he felt the rippling muscles of her swallowing around him. What a good girl she was for him, willing to let him come down her throat rather than in her sweet, tight pussy where he knew she really wanted him. She deserved a reward.

He slowed his thrusts and pulled out of her mouth before she pushed him too far. Running a hand over her face, he slipped his thumb between her lips and she sucked at it eagerly, her eyes focused on his, her hand between her legs.

“Can't keep your hands out of there can you? You’re not going to come are you?” He asked, his eyes dark, his other hand stroking his throbbing erection. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“No sir,” she breathed, moving to lay on her back. He shook his head and pulled her up.

“Hands and knees pretty kitten,” he said. “Let me fuck you properly, the way you really want it.”

She did as he asked without question and as he sunk into her wetness he gathered her damp hair into one hand and pulled her head back, his other hand holding fast to her hip. Hermione tried to push back against him but he wouldn’t let her move. Instead he pulled her up against his chest, one hand in her hair, the other around her neck, his mouth at her ear, his words a warm hiss of admonishment.

“Look at the mess you made you filthy kitten,” he whispered, turning her face to look at the lacquered floor. “Champagne and honey and chocolate…the slick from your pussy…what am I supposed to tell the elves when they come in here to clean up?” He asked, pulling out of her only an inch before slowly grinding into her again. “Hmm?”

“I…I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry for the mess I made,” she said quietly, unable to see the smile spreading across his lips. It wasn’t pride at having humiliated her, but in hearing the cracks in her voice, the vulnerability.

 

Hermione had come to him long ago, nervous but eager to share her fantasies of being his slave, submissive and at his mercy. He’d nearly imploded with arousal listening to her explain her needs to him; her desire to be held down, to be used, treated as a pet. Her cheeks had gone red just explaining it to him, and that first night, when he’d done nothing more but bind her wrists above her head, she’d come so intensely she wept.

“My life, ever since I was a girl, has had me leading the charge, running into battle, making decisions and choices that affected hundreds of people,” she’d said as they soaked in the bath after. “ _Even now, at the Ministry I hold people’s lives in my hands…it’s so much pressure. It feels so good to leave all of that behind, to be…low and small and inconsequential…to just let go._ ”

 

Now she was nearly trembling in his grip, doing her best to roll her hips, to impale herself further onto his length, but he only squeezed tighter, growling a warning in her ear.

“If you want my cock, pretty girl, you’ll have to clean up first,” he said, letting go of her throat to drag the tip of his tongue up the side of her neck. With his hand between her shoulders he pushed her back down until she was on her knees and elbows, her face only an inch from the floor. “Go on,” he said, still guiding her head with one fist tangled into her hair. “Clean up your mess, witch.”

For a moment she hesitated and he listened closely, nervous that she would whisper “ _Enough_ ,” a sign that he’d gone too far. She didn’t, and again he grinned.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, his voice sharp, his cock still nestled tightly inside her heat, her walls clenching and slick around him, her hips tipping back and forth almost involuntarily.

“I…I just…”

He straightened up and smacked her ass hard with his open palm, drawing a low, guttural moan from her lips. Another slap and she gasped, her back arching. Draco bent over her, pushing her face to the floor, the chocolate and honey smearing onto her cheek.

“You little brat,” he said, nearly laughing in her ear. “Don’t tempt me to punish you more than I already have. You’ll get spankings enough later. Now be a good girl, do as you’re told so I can fill you up.”

“Y..yes sir,” she said, and he could feel the heat of arousal radiating from her cheek.

As he went back to his position kneeling behind her, she balanced herself on her hands, licking the floor with long, wide strokes of her tongue, the sweet, acrid and earthy flavors all mixing as one, dripping from her lips and chin. Still it was worth it to feel him drive into her again and again as she licked the hard wood, moaning as his rhythm sped up.

“Good girl, good, filthy girl,” he breathed, his fingers digging into her waist.

She was so close, her insides tightening, coiling with energy and heat, and in that instant her mind went deliciously blank, her entire being flooded with endorphins, her existence reduced down to its most feral state. There was nothing but him fucking her. Draco found her swollen clit with his left hand and she eagerly lapped up the remaining mess on the floor, her sounds and movements obscene, her hips rolling in time with his thrusts.

“Are you ready, love?” He asked, pulling her up by the hair again, holding her to his chest as he pushed deep, his fingers circling her slick bud, his mouth on the pulse at her neck. “Come for me,” he whispered.

They’d been together long enough that he knew the signs of her climax, the stages of her arousal, and he knew that she would fall apart as soon as he allowed it. Her cunt tightened around him and she howled with orgasm, her whole body shaking in his arms, her mouth fallen open as she let out a low wail of relief. The sound of her coming, the feel of her slick skin beneath his fingers triggered his own finish and he gave her one final deep thrust before emptying deep inside.

 

 

His arms wrapped tight around her, holding her close as they came back to earth, their skin warm and damp, his nose buried in her hair. After a moment, he slipped out of her and they fell to the floor, Hermione curled around side, their limbs tangled together, her head on his chest. Draco sighed and stretched his neck, letting out a low sigh.

“You really hate that, don’t you,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow. “Big Mr. Malfoy can’t wear a collar for a few hours.”

She smiled and ran her fingertips over the leather, finding the buckle in the back. He grabbed her wrist and held it firm.

“Watch your mouth, witch, the night’s not over yet. I could still torture you for another hour or two.”

His voice was firm but his hand ran down her side, finding the ticklish spot just below her ribs. She squealed and twisted out of his grip but he easily wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back down to his lips.

“Thank you for indulging me,” she said, sitting up and straddling his hips, her hair a wild halo around her flushed and satisfied face. “I know it wasn’t an easy part to play.”

“Well you certainly knew how to push my buttons, love. I was ready to stripe your ass with a crop inside of ten minutes. You’d make a lovely Dominatrix.”

Hermione scrunched her nose up and shook her head, reaching down to pull the collar from his throat and buckle it around her own. She’d felt strange without it. Even if she only wore it when they were alone in the Manor, there was something about its weight and the smell of the leather that comforted her, almost as much as being in Draco’s arms at the end of the night.

Once the collar was back in place, Hermione stood and walked confidently across the room, her skin glowing in the firelight. He turned onto his side and watched her pick up the half melted ice cream and a plastic spoon from the market, popping a strawberry in her mouth as she made her way back to him. It had taken her a long time to feel this comfortable in her skin.

“You’re not really going to make the elves clean this up are you?” She asked, sitting down on the floor beside him, taking a bite of the ice cream.

Draco flopped onto his back and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She fed him his own spoonful of the dessert before he could answer.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, rolling his eyes. “My darling slave won’t let me.”

They shared the ice cream for a few minutes before Hermione summoned the robes that hung behind the parlor door for just these occasions.

“As much as I enjoy your tongue licking me clean...sir,” she said, wrapping the pewter satin around her waist, “I’m going to go upstairs and run a hot bath, would you like to join me?”

Draco stood and let her tie his own robe closed before taking her face in his hands and bending down to kiss her tenderly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.

“I would love to, Kitten. You go on and get it started, I’ll clean the rest of this up.”

“OK,” she said, giving him one last kiss before pulling away.

She made it halfway to the door before turning back and picking up the half empty jar of chocolate. “I’ll bring this along…just in case.” She stuck her finger in the sauce, swirling and coating it with thick fudge. "It's Friday after all, and we've got nothing but time," she said, giving him a wink before sucking the finger clean.


End file.
